The Breath Chronicles
by aniron17
Summary: Five songs, five stories. And two confused and lovelorn tennis stars in their midst. Tezuka Kunimitsu and Fuji Syusuke are left gasping for breath in the wake of their love. (Third Chapter uploaded. Halfway to the end, minna)
1. Eyes to be Remembered

The Breath Chronicles

A Tennis no Ohjisama Fiction

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama and all related titles are owned by Konomi Takeshi. This is merely a fan tribute and no monetary gain or copyright infringement is intended. Although Fuji and Tezuka in a box would be a welcome surprise…

The songs belong to their respective singers, songwriters, producers, distributors et. al. Again, no copyright infringement is intended.

Try not to Breathe – R.E.M.

Breathe – Michelle Branch

Barely Breathing – Duncan Sheik

Breathing – Lifehouse

Learning to Breathe – Switchfoot

Summary: This is, primarily, a Tezuka/Fuji fiction. If shounen ai offends you, please, do me a favor and stay away. Thank you. The Breath Chronicles are part song-fic, each can be read separately but are in the same timeline and universe. The Breath Chronicles are five separate fics, each with the theme of one song that includes the word "breath" in its title. Obviously.

Chapter One: Eyes to be remembered

* * *

I will try not to breathe, this decision is mine

I have lived a full life

These are the eyes I want you to remember.

"Try not to Breathe", R.E.M.

* * *

It was late, the kind of lateness that most people would be safe at home, children would be tucked into their beds, waiting for their bedtime story.

For some reason though, I was somewhere in Inner Tokyo, and I seemed to have mislaid my house. I debated on calling Oneesan, but decided against it. I would call her when the time was right, and I no longer felt alone. Besides, although I knew better, she was probably asleep.

Oneesan's favorite bedtime story, for me, when she was young and I was even younger, was the day my parents brought me home. She would tuck me in at night, when both Okaasan and Otousan would be working late, when Yuuta would already be asleep. She would smooth my hair back from my face, and she would lie on top of the blankets, her face calm and smiling, juxtaposed with my own.

And then she would start the story.

Her voice was soft and low, and her pace was slow enough to calm me into near-coma, but still alive enough to keep me listening until the end. "I was eight years old," she would say, "And I was old enough to know and understand that there was new life inside Okaasan, and as her belly grew in the coming months, I, like most only children, welcomed the coming of a new baby sibling."

At this point in her story, I would ask, "Did you want a baby sister?"

And she would shake her head, eyes opening wide in mock-shock. "Oh, no, no, no, Syu-chan," she would coo. "I wanted maybe a little sister and a brother, one of each, you know, but I would never replace you or Yuuta." Sometimes, also at this point, Yuuta would rouse himself, and get out of bed, pulling his stuffed rabbit after him, his pajamas bagging around his legs. Oneesan would scooch over so we could fit, side-by-side, in my bed. Then she would go on with her tale, one arm around Yuuta, and another around me.

"One day, Okaasan was groaning in pain, and Otousan was very panicked. He was talking into the phone. 'They're coming at a per thirty-minute interval. We're on the way to the hospital.' He motioned at me to grab Okaasan's bag, and to get in the car. And then he drove, almost at a break-neck pace, towards Tokyo General Hospital. When we got there, Okaasan was practically screaming. A nurse helped us out and Okaasan was wheeled away in a stretcher. Otousan was made to fill in forms, then he dashed down the hall, following Okaasan. 'Behave yourself, Yumiko!' he called over his shoulder. And I did. I sat down, primly, got a can of tea from the vending machine. Within minutes, a nurse approached me, smiling. 'Your parents and your new baby brother are in room 120.' I thanked her, then ran down the hall to see them." Here Yuuta's snores would interrupt, so she shifted some more so there was a less likelihood of him falling off the bed. She would smooth my hair again, and she would laugh.

"You were so small then! Like a doll. I was scared of breaking you. Okaasan and Otousan were smiling at me as I held you. I thought you were asleep. But then you opened your eyes. I nearly dropped you then. Your eyes were wide, and so, so blue! You blinked at me, once, twice, and then you closed them again, your tiny mouth opening in a cute yawn." Then she would get up, stretch, and bend down to adjust Yuuta's limbs on my bed, so he rested more comfortably against me. She would kiss me, and then Yuuta, on our foreheads. Then she would smooth down nonexistent creases in the comforter, and walk towards the door.

"And, you know, I think your eyes will stay with me forever." Here I would sit up confusedly (Oneesan was the only one who could do that at that time. Make me confused, I mean. Her, and Koujirou.) And ask her, brow creased, "Why?"

"Your eyes are truly blue, little Syuu-chan. The blue of the sky in its darkest hour, the blue of the sea, unpolluted. The blue of the waves as they reached up to drown you." Her voice would drop, a few octaves. "Especially when you cry." And she would turn off the light, and close the door, slightly, so a bit of light from the hallway came in a small sliver. "So, Syuu-chan, beware the one who makes you cry." It was a comment and a curse, an omen and a blessing. And like all of her predictions, it eventually came true.

Only one other person has said that to me since Oneesan. He just said it only two seconds ago, after we both lost control, after I kissed him, and he kissed back, with so much passion and need it left both of us breathless. He said it in his usual monotone, but his eyes mirrored the hurt and fatigue that was probably in mine. Oneesan had said it in a teasing voice, to get me to laugh. It was a time that I didn't even feel like smiling, because my little brother didn't want to see me, and just to show that, he had transferred schools. Oneesan hated it if I cried. She said my eyes looked different, that they were a deeper color, that they could make someone feel like they were drowning. He said it one day after the ranking matches, after both Inui and Echizen played their best against him and had given him a run for his money. We were both tired, the whole team was, and I wasn't helping things at all by being my usual infuriating self.

I couldn't have stopped myself, even if I'd tried. I'd known it wasn't the best time, but it was TIME, and I'd be damned if I'd let it slip by.

I waited until we were alone, and then I told it to him, the same way I tell people stuff that will embarrass them to no end. With a cheeky smile on my face and a tilt of my head.

"Hey, Tezuka," I said softly. He straightened up, holding his uniform top in one hand. "Hn." He'd replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I love you."

"Pardon me?"

"I love you." Here I was getting confused. He was supposed to pledge his undying love back. Someone should warn me not to read Oneesan's old shoujo manga when I'm bored. I lifted a hand up and rubbed at my ear.

"No."

He gave a long-suffering sigh and turned away, buttoning his top. Suddenly, I was on my feet, and I grabbed his arm, making him face me. I don't know if I tiptoed to reach his lips, or he bent down to cup my face between warm palms. And then the kiss. I think I was crying because it felt good, and because I knew the moment was not mine to claim.

Then he pulled back, sighing slightly, and he looked into my eyes. And his own widened slightly, and he brushed one of my tears away.

"I think your eyes will stay with me forever." I don't know if he pushed me away, or I pulled away of my own accord. Things get confusing and blurry at this point, when I started to run.

I do know that I was lost somewhere in Tokyo, following a long stretch of road that was bordered by houses, perfect houses with high walls and neatly trimmed grounds. I do know that I was wandering around, my eyes wide and probably tear-rimmed, because for the second and most painful time in my life, I had been refused. And I hadn't forgotten the pain. It's like riding a bike, or swimming. You never really forget.

And then the rain. I nearly smiled at the irony. When I felt like crying, the whole world cried with me. Ah, well. This would prevent my going to school, and thus facing Tezuka, which I would rather avoid under all circumstances. I walked calmly to a shed and took out my phone. It was time to call reinforcements.

It took four rings before she answered.

"'Neesan?" I sneezed, sniffled, and smiled.

"Syuusuke?" Her voice was worry-filled, and slightly hoarse.

"I'm sorry for waking you up." I pulled the phone away from my face and coughed, roughly.

"Syuusuke, where are you?"

"I don't know." I said honestly. "I can sort of see Tokyo Tower, but it's kinda blurry. I'm pretty near it though." I sneezed again. My throat felt funny.

"Don't worry. I'll be there as soon as possible. Stay there, Syuu-chan."

I suddenly felt like crying at the old endearment. I felt like I was seven years old, and I really was Syuu-chan, Yuuta was Yuu-chan, and she was simply Yu-neechan, born to protect and love us both until we turned into puddles of oily love. I simply said thank you, and hung up.

It took her ten minutes to reach me. As I got into the car, she saw my eyes, and she sighed. "Oh, Syuusuke."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, won't happen again." And I felt the familiar face slip back on, simply because it was easier, so much easier than to tell her everything, explain everything, because it just hurt.

She was muttering darkly. "I hope he got a good look at your eyes, that stupid boy of yours." She pulled a tissue box from the glove compartment and handed it to me, eyes narrowed as I blew my nose into it.

I tilted my head slightly, confusedly, and looked at her. "Why?"

"I think you know the answer to that." She cupped my chin, briefly, in her palm, and smiled. And we drove on in silence, because we both knew.

The deep sad blue of my eyes, so like the waves when they reached out to drown you, would stay with him forever.

**Owari (Chapter One)**

A/N: Hate it? Love it? Should I be hanged? Are they too OOC? Do you think Tezuka would look good in a tutu? Do you think Fuji should wear a girl's uniform? Do you think Yuuta should turn pro? Do you think Mizuki will acquire reasonable fashion sense in the near future? Would you believe it only took me four minutes to type all these questions? When did Columbus discover America? Are my questions weird? Are they funny? Do I make your skin crawl? Is anyone irritated by my excessive questioning? What is polydactyly? Will you review?


	2. Whispers in the Dark

Disclaimer: Oh, tragic life! Must I deny ownership of these beautiful boys? Such agony! These impressive young men belong only to Konomi Takeshi. (sigh)

Chapter Two: Whispers in the Dark

* * *

So I whisper in the dark, hoping you'll hear me… 

Do you hear me?

"Breathe", Michelle Branch

* * *

I pride myself on always being in control. I am a neat freak, obsessive-compulsive, a perfectionist to the very extreme. Change, to me, unless triggered, is to be wary of. I have given up on being control on three things: first, the team's noise, second, my hair, and lastly… 

Fuji Syuusuke.

Fuji has always been the wild card, the weight that tips the balance and might very well send me tumbling from whatever lofty ideal I cling to. But he gets points for persistence, for being stalwart in the face of refusal. Not to sound conceited, but I know he likes me.

I might even go so far as to say that he wants me. Even Kikumaru can no longer deny the fact, since he himself is witness to most of Fuji's physical, emotional, mental, and psychological taunts. And he isn't the only one. These days, the team has been giving me strange looks.

The kind of gaze you give to a man heading for the guillotine. I've seen Oishi try to step forward after one of Fuji's more blatant hints and my obvious brush-off, but I also catch Inui holding him back with a hand on his arm and a shake of his head. Inui, unlike most people think him to be, knows when to stop taking data. Sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Fuji as his mask slips for a split-second, showing that he's disappointed, that he wishes I could've at least responded in some little way.

But Fuji is unpredictable, and I cannot deny the fact that I fear him in ways I dare not admit to myself. We are as different as night and day, even subtracting the physical features. Every time that I am tempted to reach out and touch him, or to respond to his small signs, I stop myself, simply saying to myself that we are completely different, personality-wise, and that this could only end in pain. My pain would be at the most, bearable, but to cause pain to Fuji… that was a completely different matter.

I knew that one of these days, Fuji's control would break, and would test the mettle of my own armor. And when it came, one drizzly afternoon after club practice, he nearly sent me spiraling down after him.

He was sitting on the bench, near the window, changed into his uniform. I was standing in front of my locker, and I held my uniform top in my hands. From the corner of my eye, I saw him open his mouth, and I knew that the inevitable time had come.

"Hey, Tezuka." His voice was deceptively soft, almost like a song. I'd grunted in reply, though that doesn't seem very important right now.

"I love you."

My shoulders tensed as I buttoned up my uniform top. "Pardon me?"

"I love you." His tone was now a bit confused, and louder. What I said next was a betrayal, a necessary evil.

"No." And I thought that was the end of it. But then I felt his hand on my arm, holding me back. And I couldn't resist. I bent down and kissed him in one swift movement. He arched into me, and I could taste his longing and his love. He tasted like strawberries and cream, and it was like he was a drug and I was just another hopeless junkie who couldn't get enough. I pulled back, sighing in mixed pleasure and defeat, and I saw that he was crying. I reached out and brushed some of his tears away.

"I think your eyes will stay with me forever." I whispered, almost reverently, a worshipper to a god so far above him, untouchable. He pulled away from me, as if I had slapped him. He started to run, and I knew it was futile to chase after him. I finished buttoning up my uniform and hefted my bag onto my shoulder. I walked home.

Just as I closed the door behind me, it started to rain. I gazed outside at the solid sheet of water, and said a silent prayer for all those stuck in the rain. I took of my shoes and wandered into the kitchen, where my mother had left a casserole and a hastily-scribbled note.

Kunimitsu, (the note read), your father and I are catching the last flight to Kyushu. There is trouble at the office down there, your older brother needs help. Heat the casserole for ten minutes, at 350 °F. Your grandfather will be home late. I trust that you will be responsible and helpful in our absence. Love, Okaasan.

I ate dinner in silence. Washed the dishes in silence. Went up the stairs quietly. As I passed by the upstairs telephone, with the future of impending quiet upon me, it rang.

I jumped in surprise. I reached for the receiver and brought it slowly to my ear.

"Tezuka residence."

"Good evening," the speaker said, pleasantly. The voice was low, but recognizably female. "Is Tezuka Kunimitsu there?"

"Speaking. May I ask who's calling?"

"Fuji," My heart constricted. "Yumiko." And fell, in two seconds.

"Hai." I said uncomfortably.

"My younger brother, Syuusuke, will not be attending tennis practice for the next few days." She went on, businesslike and polite. I kept silent, although I was dying to ask the reason. I didn't have to ask though.

"He has been admitted to Tokyo General Hospital. He came down with pneumonia this afternoon." She paused, as if debating. When she spoke again, her voice was as gentle as Fuji's when he was plotting something particularly heinous. "You can come visit him, if you want. He's in room 234."

"Aa." I said softly. "Thank you."

* * *

Two days later, at Tokyo General Hospital, I was holding a bouquet of flowers. Behind me, Kikumaru was hugging a gigantic bear and was being quieted down by a patient Oishi. Kawamura was holding a tray of assorted sushi (half of which looked suspiciously like wasabi sushi) and Inui was holding his notebook and an evil-looking thermos in one hand and Kaidoh's collar with the other. Kaidoh, for his part, was looking uncomfortable, holding a large card signed and decorated by the "Fuji Syuusuke rabu-rabu club" (number of members, uncountable). Echizen was holding a rather large and flamboyant fruit basket, and he looked up at me expectantly. 

"What are you waiting for, Buchou?" he said slyly. "Knock."

If I were that kind of person, I would have hit him. Instead, I did what he told me to. I rapped smartly on the door of room 234. It was opened by a pretty young woman whom I recognized from that time she picked Fuji up on the way to Echizen's house. "Yumiko-neesan!" Kikumaru greeted her, pushing his way to the front and I backed away, allowing the team to surge past me, bearing gifts. I made my way in quietly and shut the door behind me.

Fuji sat on the bed, looking pale and worn, but the smile was still on his face. "How nice of everyone to come." He commented softly. He accepted the gifts with a smile and some laughter. Yumiko took the flowers from me and slipped them into a dainty vase. She smiled at me and mouthed, "Water" as she quietly made her exit. Kikumaru was telling Fuji animatedly about something or the other that happened in their class, and all of the members were laughing at the acrobatics Kikumaru employed to make his story more entertaining.

A half-hour or so later, Momoshiro and Kikumaru were complaining of hunger, and Fuji told them of the newly-opened burger joint in the hospital cafeteria. Echizen remarked that it was nice of Kikumaru-senpai to treat, and Oishi said that if Fuji didn't mind…

"Go ahead," Fuji said, smiling happily. "Or else they'll get cranky." At that, Oishi quickly hustled the other members out.

Leaving me and Fuji. Alone.

Unexpectedly, the lights went out.

"Oh dear." Fuji said softly, looking out the window, where the rain was again pouring down in strong unforgiving sheets. "There must be a blackout. Don't worry. I'm sure the hospital's generators will kick in soon."

"Aa." I replied, not knowing what to say to that.

"Tezuka," I raised my eyes to his face, softly illuminated by the streetlight outside. "Do you hate me?" he said shakily. I shook my head, then remembered that he couldn't see me.

"No." I murmured softly. I took a few steps closer to the bed, until I was standing at the foot of it. There was a crash of thunder, then a flash of lightning, and then I saw his face, his teeth worrying his lower lip, his eyes open slightly, staring at me. I took a few more steps, until I was standing just beside the bed. I cupped his cheek gently, and he leaned into the touch, sighing. I watched him, transfixed. My mouth opened, and what came out was an accident, but an accident from the bottom of whatever heart I had.

"I love you." I whispered into the dark. I didn't think he heard me, and then I heard him laugh. He lifted his arms and swept them around me in a tight hug.

"I thought you'd never say so." He whispered back, his breath tickling my ear. The lights went on suddenly, blinding us both temporarily. I looked down at him, and he was smiling, happily, contentedly.

And I knew the wild card was in my hand.

**Owari (Chapter Two)**

A/N: Do you think their OOC? Do you think I should stop asking so many questions? Do you think I have ADD? Will you pray for the people who died in the tsunami? Do you know that the tsunami injured Jet Li? Did you watch Romeo Must Die? Did you like it? Are you smiling right now? Do you think I should continue this? Will you answer all my questions? Do you like strawberry ice cream? How about vanilla? Have you tasted bicycle-flavored ice cream and Mango sorbet?Are you allergic to kiwi jam? Are you related to the Prime Minister of Glompalapooza? Have you been to Hawaii? Don't you think my questions are a bit late? Will you read and run or will you stay and review?


	3. A Fool for Another Day

Disclaimer: Okay… quick and painless… Idon'townthemsothere!Happy,yousadists?

A/N: A shout-out to all the people who reviewed. You know who you are, and all of you personally rock my world!Thank you for brightening up one totally tired yaoi fangirl's dreary day. Kisses to all and... the third chapter of the Breath Chronicles!

* * *

Chapter Three: A Fool for another day

And I could stand here waiting, a fool for another day.

I don't suppose it's worth the price (worth the price) the price that I could pay.

But I'm thinking it over, anyway.

"Barely Breathing", Duncan Sheik

* * *

I pause in the middle of the doubles match versus Eiji and Oishi. Taka-san yelps as the ball bounces out of reach, but I smile. I search for him over the heads of the other members of the tennis club, standing on my tiptoes. I spot him, and he's watching the Inui-Kaidoh pair versus Momoshiro-Echizen pair.

Well. That can be remedied.

I call for a time-out, and Irai declares one, louder than necessary. Usually, I would find that tasteless and a waste of energy, to shout that loud, but now I am faintly thankful. I saunter over to Taka-san, who watches me with a wary, yet friendly eye. Across the net, I see Eiji cheering in "Victory!" while Oishi tries to shut him up. Cute. I sling an arm around Taka-san's neck and bend my head closer to his than necessary. His face immediately takes on a rosy blush, and not just from the heat. Oh dear. I thought he was over that silly crush. Inwardly, I sighed. I didn't mean to put him in a gender-bender just because I look like a girl. I mean… I don't think he's gay…

"What are you planning, Fuji?" His voice shakes slightly, but takes on that manic confident tone as he grips the racket tighter.

"A reverse formation, and then a few well-aimed serves to send Eiji scrambling." I say slyly, nudging him with my hip. From beneath my closed lids, I see Tezuka suck in his breath, and his eyes narrow, ever so slightly.

YES! A reaction from the great Tezuka Kunimitsu! Ten points to Fuji Syuusuke! Taka-san is speaking again, so I bend my head to hear better. I feel Tezuka's jealous gaze bore into my back.

"Ah… okay." He disentangles himself carefully. I'm surprised. Maybe he is over that little infatuation. I walk over and pick my racket up from the ground, knowing that my shorts hike up about two centimeters as I do, and my shirt falls slightly. Behind me, Taka-san and Irai give muted gasps in unison, and I grin, seeing Tezuka's mouth tighten in a grim line… ooh, he's in a vengeful mood today. Somebody's going to run laps for no reason …

The match goes by quickly. Even with my careful planning, Eiji and Oishi win with a large margin. 6-2, in their favor. I shake hands with Eiji and Oishi in turn, and walk beside the skipping Eiji, who goes to congratulate Inui and Kaidoh and tease Momo and Echizen. I don't say anything. I just smile sweetly, until Echizen goes, "We got a higher score, Fuji-sempai." Which is true. Their game ended 6-3, which isn't that big of a difference, depending on how you look at it. I beckon Echizen closer, and he approaches me like a hunter would approach a man-eating tiger with cubs. I put my arm around him, and whisper, into his seashell ear, "Is Momo taking you out for burgers later on? Like a date?" Which causes him to nearly snarl and jump away from me. But not before I see Tezuka's shoulders tighten in suspicion. I nearly giggle in amusement. He is SO easy to bait.

After practice, while I wait for him to finish dressing up, he talks to me.

"What were you doing out there?" he asks tensely, buttoning up his uniform top.

"Being friendly with my teammates." I say, nearly purring. I'm baiting him again, and he knows this. He doesn't reply and I purse my lips. The silence extends for almost an eternity.

"Saa…" I slide gracefully to my feet. I saunter over to him and smile, tilting my head to the side so I can see his face. Then I go around behind him, and lift up the back of his shirt, where he's already tucked it in his pants like the obsessive-compulsive neat freak he is. I slide my hands up over the smooth skin of his back, over his shoulder blades. I kneaded the space between them, delicately tracing patterns on his spine. To my surprise, he leaned into the touch, relaxing. I made my voice low and husky, and whispered. "Oh, Tezuka-san," I said, imitating one of his more pushy fangirls. "You have such tension in your upper back," here I softly made my fingers tiptoe over his skin, "What causes this, Tezuka-san?" He turns around to face me, and I feel a small shiver of anticipation run up my spine.

"You do." He bends down and my hands on his back suddenly fist as he captures my lips and I...

"BUCHOU! FU-UU-JII!" We crash down with satisfying thuds on the locker room floor at the sound of Eiji's voice through the glass of the (oh) steamed-up windows. He's rubbing at the glass, as if he could dissipate the mist from outside. He pounds at the door (thankfully locked) and Tezuka quickly disentangles himself from me, lifting me easily onto my feet and brushing off the dirt on the seat of my pants. I give a small angry huff, and he gives me a lopsided smile in return, which makes me want to kiss him. Instead, I smile in return and straighten up my shirt. I open the door for Eiji, who's practically red-faced. "Hi, Eiji," I say, but deep inside I'm torturing him in a hundred different ways that really, really hurt. He doesn't reply and instead rushes past me to his locker. I follow him at a slower pace, and find him cradling a toothpaste tube filled with bright purple stuff. "I'm sorry," he coos to the toothpaste (_Banana-Grape-Bonanza!™_-flavor) repeatedly, in the reverent tone used for babies and small children. I huff again, softer, and grab my bag.

"I'll wait for you outside, Tezuka. Bye, Eiji."

* * *

You CANNOT blame me for what happened inside the locker room. I'm a hormonally driven teenager for God's sake!

Tezuka and I have officially been a couple since last week. At least, official to those who care. I mentioned it to Yuuta (who probably passed this juicy little tidbit of gossip to his friend with the horrendous fashion sense and no tennis skill whatsoever) and to Eiji (who probably, no, SURELY revealed it to Oishi in the post-coital fugue they seem so fond on sharing), and Yumiko-neesan knows. I think Inui has a pretty good idea that we're an item, and it seems that he's rather amused by the whole thing.

Kunimitsu, on his part, has probably told… the whole of Nowheresville, population: 0. I think Atobe knows, and Tachibana-san from Foudomine. How they found out, though, I have no idea.

The point of this whole soliloquy of name-dropping is this: Tezuka Kunimitsu and I have been a couple for exactly a week and two days. That's 216 hours or 12960 minutes, or if you prefer something more detailed and complicated: 777600 seconds. And I have heard and learned nothing new about Tezuka, the man.

Which is kind of annoying, but to be expected. I mean, this is a guy with absolutely no people skills (but somehow, stellar leadership. Figure THAT out.), and a week or so is not enough time to get him to spill everything he's ever felt.

But I could expect maybe a small feeler of emotion. A tiny dot or a sliver of feeling. I get this: absolutely nothing.

By now, you should have realized that I am very, very desperate. Not to mention dancing on the safe side of horny. I might as well have: 'This guy needs to be fucked' tattooed on my forehead.

* * *

It's a nice house. A manicured lawn, neat flowers. A medium-sized car (his mom's, probably) and a jazzy sports car (possibly his father's). Japanese-style, it looked like from the outside. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There were calm footsteps, and the door opened, revealing a neatly-dressed woman in her mid-forties, with long dark hair neatly piled up on her head in a chignon. "Yes? Can I help you?" She smiled at me, neat rows of teeth and perfectly made-up lips.

"Hi. I'm a friend of Kunimitsu, from the tennis club. He left his notebook in the locker room this afternoon. I thought he needed it for an assignment so I dropped it on my way home." I smiled back at her, knowing that my lie was smooth and hole-free. Sure I was Kunimitsu's friend, but the notebook (world history, his favorite subject, no less!) I had snitched from his bag (and had searched for doodles that pertained to me. None, but I did see some amazing specimens of ukiyo-e style sketches he had done in ballpoint pen on the back of his notebook.). I was on my way home, but I informed Yumiko-neesan that I would probably be late. (Then I took a long detour, just to pass by the address I cunningly obtained from Inui.)

"Oh." She slid open the door gracefully. "Why, how thoughtful of you." She ushered me inside and gestured for me to sit down. I saw a glimpse of a koi pond through another shoji, which she pushed open further. "I am Tezuka Kiseki, Kunimitsu's mother. Thank you so much."

For a fearful three seconds I thought she would ask the notebook from me and send me on my merry way when there came an unmistakable sound of water boiling over.

"Oh!" She quickly stood and left the room in a brisk walk. "Kaede!" she called over her shoulder. "Show Fuji Syusuke-chan to Kunimitsu's room."

A small boy, maybe around six or so, came into the room, dragging an enormous blue elephant. He looked at me with eyes the same muted honey-gold as Kunimitsu's, and gestured for me to follow. Grabbing my bag, I obediently followed him up the stairs.

It was midway up when I realized that I never told Tezuka-san who I was.

The boy Kaede pointed out the second door on my left when we reached the second floor. I thanked him and he smiled at me, softly, with little dimples in creamy cheeks. I knocked on the said door and waited.

"Come in!" Kunimitsu called out. I breathed softly, one, two, and three… I pushed the door open. His back was turned to me, and he was rifling urgently through his bag. I pushed the door close behind me and secured it with the little latch. I tiptoed closer to him and leaned forward, securing him in a warm embrace as I placed the notebook securely on top of the rest.

"Tezuka-saaa-un," I whispered, purposely drawing out the honorific at the end. "You still have such tension in your upper back. Perhaps you would like me to rid you of it."

"Fuji." I shook my head, standing up. He pulled himself into a sitting position on his bed.

"Ah, ah, ah, Buchou," I murmured, shaking my finger at him. I push him down onto the bed, slowly but insistently, surely and irresistibly. "It's Syusuke."

(For the sake of kids like Kaede, I will eliminate the next few parts.)

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**Owari (Chapter Three)**

So? Like it? Hate it? Want to kill me for movie rights for it? If you were a bottle, would you be green? Do you like paperclips? Are you a llama? Have you watched Jimmy Neutron? Are you sticking this out 'til the very, very end? Are you smiling? Would you like to jump? Are you reading this offline? Would you dedicate a fic to me? Do you think Tezuka's little brother is cute? Have you reviewed before? Do I sound incredibly hyper? Pink or Blue? Red or Green? Black or White? Diskettes or CD? Fuji or Tezuka? Do you think Eiji should jump Oishi or the other way around? Is Inui a pervert? Would you like a copy of the deleted scene? Leave a review saying so then, with your email addie, andI will try to get itto you! Is anyone willing to beta?Will you review or run away like a doggie with your tail between your leggies?


	4. Wanting Nothing More

Disclaimer: If they were mine, do you think we'd only have flying shirts? Forget it! Flying shorts more like it!

A/N: Angel reviewers (especially the DnKS-giRLs, who answered each and every one of my questions, which is why they get a special mention)! Yahoi! I know all of you guys loved the last chappie to bits and ickle pieces, but the summary says angst, and I live up to my summaries. Another bit of Tezuka/Fuji angst to maybe darken your doorway, but we're three-quarters of a way there, so don't leave me hanging! (by the way, to those who asked for the copy of the ahem, deleted thing from chapter three, I'll see what I can do. My email is going kablooey on me.) Also, I'm SO SORRY for making you wait for forever before posting! (author prostrates itself before reviewers)

A/N (part deux): This is actually first of two parts. Part two is also chapter five, so at the end of this, you will see a "To be Continued" sign. Don't panic. I'll probably post it within a year or so.

Note about the story: Basically, their families are like this: Tezuka- Mom, Dad, Grandfather, Older brother (in Kyushu), Older sister (in Europe, based in France) and little brother (Kaede). Fuji: Mom, Dad, Older sister (Yumiko), Younger brother (Yuuta).

Chapter Four: Wanting nothing more

* * *

'Cause I want nothing more than, to sit outside Heaven's door

and I listen to you breathing, is where I wanna be, yeah.

"Breathing", Lifehouse

* * *

It's two a.m. on a Sunday morning, and again, he's slept over at my place. He says he like it better here, because here he feels like he's part of a family. His 'tousan's always traveling and his 'kaasan works long hours at their publishing company. His sister's there, but she's taking her finals. Yuuta's always in his dorm at St. Rudolph's.

"Sometimes," he says. "It's like I'm all alone in the world, when I'm at home."

When he says that, it makes me want to hug him fiercely. I settle for pulling him close and planting a small kiss in his hair.

We cling together with a tenacity that belies our future separation. I haven't told him yet, but I think he knows.

I'm going to Germany. To heal my arm. I don't know when I'll come back. Maybe never.

But I… I don't know. I could put it off another year, but Ryuuzaki-sensei contends that my play will never be the same if I postpone my departure. I no longer know how to make decisions, especially if they concern him.

A cool breeze blows through my window, and he shivers slightly. I put both arms around him and pull the blanket over both of us.

It's still dark outside, and my curtains are blocking all but a few of the moon's rays. If I close my eyes, I can hear him, breathing slowly, and feel him, his every contour shaped perfectly to fit in my arms. I can smell him, clean soap and strawberry shampoo tickling my nostrils.

It's two-oh-five a.m. on a Sunday morning, and I debate on how to say good-bye to a person who means practically the world I live in.

* * *

I wake up to waffles and a maple syrupy smell in the air. I wake up at seven a.m. to his smiling face. He insists on feeding me.

Ryuuzaki-sensei asked me when she told me of the sports clinic. _What will you miss the most, Tezuka? What holds you back from fulfilling your dream?_

People automatically assume that my dreams involve turning pro someday. It used to be that I could see myself at Wimbledon. Now I'm looking into courses for law, and I cracked open one of my sister's art books the other day. I'm expanding my horizons, in the what-if scenario that I decide not to go to Germany after all. My arm doesn't affect my life, just my play. And my play isn't my life, not anymore.

For someone who keeps his eyes closed all the time, Fuji Syuusuke's sure helping me open mine.

* * *

I take him out for the day. First we pass by a church, since he's Catholic and he's supposed to go to mass, but since he went to the Anticipated Mass on Saturday afternoon, he can skip the Sunday ceremony. He prays for awhile, not like we do at temples, but he kneels and bows his head, and he doesn't speak. He opens his eyes and looks at the cross, stained-glass light falling on his face.

I'm postponing my decision. I'm waiting for a sign if I should leave or stay. What I tell him will be my final choice, irrevocable and unchangeable. I've asked my parents. They said that it's my arm, and it's my life, and whatever path I choose, they'll be there doing their best to guide me.

It was so cheeseball I thought I was going to turn green. What if I decide to stay and they ask me why? Does their answer apply even to my relationships?

I asked my grandfather. He said that he would be pleased if I took up law, not surprised if I took up art, and if I chose my tennis, well, good luck. He's blunt, my grandfather is, but he likes Syuusuke. The Fuji family is old money, and he knew Syuusuke's grandparents and knows his parents. I think my grandfather has a hint on what we share, and I think he understands.

My siblings know (about my having to leave for Germany). Mostly their reaction is similar to my parents, but Kaede's not old enough to fully comprehend what's going to happen. He thinks I'll leave and not come back like my older siblings. He looks at me with his big brown eyes and he asks me not to make anyone cry. My older sister does nothing but send me emails extolling the virtues of Europe in general and Germany in particular. I think she's lonely over there.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, jolting me back into the present. He's standing in front of me, grinning. "I'm done," he says softly, and he leads me out of the church. He stretches out in the sunlight.

"Nice day, isn't it?" he tells me, bounding to the bottom of the steps of the church. I follow at a more sedate pace, and meet at the bottom. His smile is sweet and serious at the same time.

_What will you miss, Tezuka?_

I'll miss Fuji's smile.

* * *

We go to a movie theater, buy the tickets to watch a movie. It's an action-comedy, since you wouldn't catch me or him in a romantic chick-flick type movie. I hardly even remember it. He laughed all the time, even at when the hero was dying. It made me quirk my lips in a half-smile sometimes. There was this scene in the movie where he held my hand. It was when the hero told his girlfriend that he had to leave her, because they didn't have any future together, not with him missing four of his fingers and half of his leg. The girl was crying and sobbing, and holding onto his three-fingered right-hand. Syuusuke was laughing then, but he was holding my hand, tightly.

I understood what he was saying. I really did.

_Don't leave me, Kunimitsu._

I made my decision. I wouldn't be leaving for Germany after all. I told him and he threw his arms around me. We took a Print Club picture to celebrate. For once, both of us were smiling.

But as I later found out, the choice wasn't mine. Oishi's uncle did his routine examination of my shoulder and found that there was something like a crack in the joint. He recommended a specialist, who told me it was Germany or amputation.

It's my left arm. I'm _left-handed. _I could learn to cope, but it isn't vanity to want to keep both your arms, isn't it?

Isn't it?

I keep on thinking of the guy in the movie. And I substitute Fuji clinging to the stump of my arm. Ouch.

My parents were adamant. No son of theirs was going to lose his arm. 'Kaasan booked me on a flight to Germany in three weeks. 'Neesan was going to meet me at the airport. It was settled. All that was left were my good-byes.

I think he knew before I even told him. I broke the news to the whole team, at the same time. Kikumaru and Momoshiro were screeching their heads off and everyone was stuck in a sort of vague fog. Oishi had some inkling, since my doctor's his uncle, but I cannot forget Syuusuke's wide-eyed look as he took off running.

I didn't expect this.

I hadn't expected him to lose control. All the other players averted their eyes as I went after him.

I found him beside the shed, holding both hands up to his mouth. I thought he was throwing up, but then I saw his body shudder in a broken sob. There were some things you weren't supposed to see, ever, and Fuji Syuusuke having a nervous breakdown was one of them.

"Syuusuke. I'm… sorry." I said entreatingly, soothingly. I held out my hands to him, planning to give him a comforting hug, even though we were in school and we weren't supposed to have something like this.

Remember when I said I hadn't expected him to run away? I also didn't expect what happened next.

He pushed himself away from the wall with something like a snarl, something that sounded like "Why didn't you tell me?"

I didn't get the chance to reply, because he slapped me. I swear on all things holy. Fuji Syuusuke, tennis prodigy and all-around nice guy had slapped me across my face and sent my glasses flying across the bushes.

_What will you miss, Tezuka?_

I looked at the boy in front of me, blurry and panting and angry.

_I will miss Fuji Syuusuke._

But I wasn't sure if he would care enough to miss me.

* * *

A/N: Over the top? Did you find any of it funny? Are you a Christian? What do you think of the movie "Saved"? Do you listen to rock music? Are my questions getting stranger? Will you ever answer my questions? What is the meaning of life? Was that too predictable? If you were a color, would you be purple? If you were a blade of grass, would you be reading this? Why ARE you reading this? Have you ever watched Rurouni Kenshin? What do you think of Shinomori Aoshi and Seta Soujirou together? If you were a bug, would you float like a butterfly and sting like a bee?If you were a sky, would you be brown? If you were water, would you flow? Would you make your mouse float to the review button and leave me one? Please?

A/N: (part deux) Any fic requests are also solicited, as well as reviews. Although it takes me all sorts of time frames to pop them out, they will arrive, somehow, some way. Leave me a review and a request and I'll try to work them into a nice little ficcie for toi.

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TO BE CONTINUED 


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